


When it Rains it Pours

by MaraJordyn



Series: Obey Me One-Shots [4]
Category: Shall We Date?: Obey Me!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-13
Updated: 2020-10-13
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:27:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26995909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaraJordyn/pseuds/MaraJordyn
Summary: Description: Simeon always smiles, but he can’t keep it up forever, and with this rain brings the last of his composure. Luckily, you are there to comfort him.
Relationships: Simeon (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!) & Reader
Series: Obey Me One-Shots [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2008207
Comments: 9
Kudos: 95





	When it Rains it Pours

He never liked the rain, the implications of what it brought. The darkening sky, the cold chilling rain pouring from weeping clouds, cleansing what had been dirtied. Washing precious things away. He could only associate storms with discontent, with despair. It never helped that after the war, after the destruction and endless sorrow it had wrought, it had rained for several days afterwards to sweep away the last of the corruption. How could he now seperate the memory of rain with that of thousands of grieving angels, himself included? Sticking his hand out from the protective surface covering his head, Simeon let the droplets pool in his open palm only to spill through the cracks between his fingers. He picked up his pace to take shelter inside Purgatory Hall.

* * *

  
“It sure is storming out now,” you sighed, peering out the window as the wind and drops rattled the glass. The wooden spoon you held clutched in your hand settled against the inside of the bowl mid-stir as you approached the view. You watched as red and black lightning struck through the air, leaving the building rattling with thunder. Storms here in the Devildom had their differences, but stayed similar enough to remain a source of comfort. The way the sound, the smell, the feeling in the air put you at ease was just like in the human world.

“Maybe you should consider staying the night! It looks like it’s going to rain for a while, and it’s too dangerous to go back home during the storm!” Luke couldn’t help but beam, interrupting his own culinary work at the satisfaction of keeping you away from demons. You’d come here to Purgatory Hall to help make dinner at Simeon’s request. The older angel wasn’t feeling well and wondered if you’d assist in making a proper meal. Left to Luke, all they would be eating that night was sweets, and Solomon had been banned from the kitchen nearly altogether for...safety reasons.

If you ended up staying later than you were supposed to, you knew you’d get an earful from not just one, but seven jealous and angry demons. Plus, a little rain wouldn’t hurt you, but even then, you entertained the idea. “Looks like it wouldn’t hurt staying _a bit_ longer. Besides,” you tightened the straps around your back from your protective apron, “dinner still needs to be finished anyway.” The two of you worked for a time, chopping and stirring, all while the storm beat against the outside of the house, muffling the worries of the world against rolling thunder. You loved the rain. The way it satiated thirsty flowers, the way it’s turmoil somehow made you feel safer in comparison.

“It’s almost ready!” Luke announced, peeking inside the oven, the mitts on his hands eliciting a small chuckle from you. Luckily he didn’t notice.

“Alright then, would you like to set the table or let people know to come to dinner?”

The young angel grimaced. “I don’t like setting the table.”

“Well we have an issue then because I don’t either…” you admitted, smirking a little. “How about we decide with a game of rock-paper-scissors? Loser prepares the table.” Ever since you taught Luke the popular human-world game, he became obsessed with it. Thanks to you, it’s how he solved difficult decisions. The demons you lived with might’ve scoffed over something as childish as this, but you never had to worry about that here. The small angel took you up on your offer, each of you preparing your fist over empty palms. After counting to three in unison, you unleashed a flat hand; paper. You heard Luke’s whining before you processed his balled up fist. You savored your small accomplishment with a little shout. “Victory!”

He pouted, but he took the loss with a bit of grace. “Fine, but next time you set the table.”

“Fair enough,” you agreed, reaching behind your torso to fiddle with the tie to your apron. Pulling it up off your neck, you hung it up on a hook on the wall. “Pull the food out out in five minutes, please.” You turned to push the door to their kitchen open before Luke called out with one last question.

“Should I make a place for you?” His wide blue eyes were not only curious, but pleading. They struck you with one look, rendering your will to shreds in seconds. Instant K.O. Surely your roommates would understand. After all, it was kicking up outside and appeared to be getting worse as the minutes went by.

“Sure, Luke. Thank you.” The fact that you’d be staying for dinner assuaged any sort of frustration at being left to put plates on the table. Luke stayed in the kitchen with a giddy little smile on his face. Solomon’s room was closer, and as you wandered the white halls with blue accents and delicate flora, you came back to questioning why you were here in the first place. You had never known Simeon to admit to not feeling well, he’d always been ethereally happy and in good health anytime you saw him. Of course, if anyone knew what putting up a content front for others was like, it would’ve been you. However, whatever it was couldn’t be too serious, right? Otherwise Solomon and Luke would’ve been made aware. Anxious thoughts were put on hold as you knocked on the sorcerer’s door. He didn’t open it, but you could hear a questioning noise from inside his room. “Dinner’s ready.”

“Ah, I’ll be right down,” Solomon answered followed by a strange hissing noise from...whatever he was working on. Something best left to his own devices. Now you only had one figure left to invite, and the worries came flooding back into your mind. What if he was sick? What you had prepared would be much heavier on the stomach than what someone who was ill should eat. You tried cursing in your head for not thinking about it sooner, but something about being in Purgatory Hall prevented you from being so vulgar.

Approaching Simeon’s room, you could hear a sound just barely sticking out against the storm. A plinking sort of chime, a high pitched but somber little melody. A music box. It soothed you in a strange sad way, the tune mixing with the rain leaving you with a sense of melancholy. It was an emotion you never thought you’d associate with the angel, and for a split second, you wondered if someone else was inside. You gently knocked on the door, but it ended up being silenced by another bout of thunder. The second time you tried a little louder, calling his name though the wood keeping you barred from his room. Simeon never responded, and against your better judgement, you cracked his door open.

He was seated in a teal armchair positioned against a large window. The curtains were thrown wide, giving him a perfect view of the downpour outside. His room was dim, lit by only a single lamp tucked away in the corner. The music you had heard was coming from a music box settled firmly in his lap. It looked old but well-kept. The lid was open, letting a little wooden carving of a cloud and rainbow slowly spin in place while the tune continued. It started to slow, and absentmindedly, Simeon grasped the small crank attached to the side and wound it up again. The angel himself was apparently lost in thought, chin resting against his hand as he propped himself up with a crooked arm. His brown hair came down low over his forehead, blocking your view of his eyes. His lips pressed together in a line, the corners drooping downwards.

You opened the door just a bit wider, causing the hinges to creak. Simeon swiveled his head around, allowing you to catch the glimmer of sorrow in his eyes for just a moment before he grinned at you, the light back in his eyes. “Oh I’m sorry, did you knock? I didn’t hear you. Dinner’s ready then? I can already smell the lovely-...What is it?” Taking notice of your concerned expression, he tilted his head to the side, trying to console you with the swimming aquamarine in his irises.

“Is something wrong? You said you weren’t feeling well in your text, and you looked a bit…” Your sentence trailed off, not knowing quite what he was feeling and not wanting to assume.

Downcast, he shut the lid to the music box, breaking it’s melody. “So you saw?” He turned his gaze away from you, brushing his fingertip across the lid before placing it aside. You were curious about the object in his possession, but you didn’t have to vocalise them for Simeon to answer them for you. “Lucifer gave this to me, a long long time ago. It supposedly makes the rain go away.” Swallowing a growing lump in his throat, you watched his Adam’s apple bob. The smile across his face remained, but it was laced with crestfallen tenderness. He wrongly assumed that changing the subject would distract you from what you observed from him earlier.

“What’s bothering you?” You permitted yourself to take a few steps closer to him, watching a bright burst of light crack through the sky. Simeon flinched at the sight, an action so small and so brief, if you hadn’t admittedly been staring him down, you would’ve missed it. “I know you’re incapable of lying, so you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, but I am here to offer what I can if you need it.”

An outstretched hand was all he apparently needed, although you were stunned speechless by his reaction. With shimmery eyes, he grabbed your hand with his, pulling you to him in an instant. Still seated in the chair, he planted his face in your shoulder. The warmth of him washed over you, a heat much different than the demons you knew. Simeon’s was gentle, embracing, like soft sunrays that settled over your skin and coaxed you to sleep. Silent tears from his eyes seeped into the fabric of your shirt, breaking your heart. He stayed quiet, keeping his burdens to himself, but allowing you to be his support. You would not--you could not-- deny him this nor ask any more from him. Tenderly hugging him with your arms wrapped around his body, you let your hand rub his back in circles. His body hitched in random intervals, but if it weren’t for that, you would have a hard time believing he was crying at all. Thunder cracked and boomed louder than it had done before, making Simeon jolt in his seat, grasping the back of your shirt in handfuls. He didn’t like the rain, you concluded. Biting the inside of your cheek, you tilted the both of you to the side for just a moment, using one finger to flip the lid to the music box back open. The serene tune flooded the room once more, and you heard Simeon take in a deep breath. For a few moments, the two of you took in the moment together, doing what you could to shield Simeon from the harshness of the storm. Then he pulled away from you, too tired to be sheepish, or perhaps angels did not care about being vulnerable the same way demons and humans did.

“I guess it does stop the rain,” you whispered aloud, alluding to his cry rather than the weather still raging. Watching the last tear drift down his cheek, you went to brush it aside with your thumb but stopped yourself, not knowing if he’d like such a gesture. Almost like he knew, Simeon took your hand in his, touching it to the side of his face, his mouth returning to it’s usual upward curl, but with something more affectionate behind its shape. You caught the stray drop before it fell any further, wiping it away for him. The tempest outside rattled the house again. Simeon squeezed his eyes shut, tilting his head into your palm. “How about I bring dinner to your room, and then we can weather this storm together?”

His eyelids lifted, his long lashes fluttering, his full attention on you. “You’d do that for me?” You simply nodded, resisting the urge to brush his hair away from his eyes so you could further lose yourself in the sight of them. Barely audible over the pouring rain, he spoke again. “Then I’d like that very much…” You left, rushing as quickly as you could, apologizing for leaving him alone. Restarting the cycle as the song began to fade, Simeon experienced a sliver of the comfort that comes with rain. The suffering was out there, separated by these walls, leaving him warm and dry inside, in here with you.

He still hated the rain, but with you, with the memory you’d left him with, perhaps it wasn’t so bad.


End file.
